


I’m going to heal you

by ALCzysz17



Series: 31 Days of Jonsa [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: 31 Days of Jonsa, Cunnilingus, Day 2: Scars, F/M, Jon helps to heal Sansa in more ways than just one, Sibling Incest, Unknowing Cousin Incest, jonsa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-03
Updated: 2018-03-03
Packaged: 2019-03-26 05:53:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13851453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ALCzysz17/pseuds/ALCzysz17
Summary: Now that Sansa is back with her half-brother, Jon, she is safe. There are many issues for her to overcome, getting help with ointment on her cut and bruised back is only one of them. Will she ask Jon for help?





	I’m going to heal you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LatinTigress](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LatinTigress/gifts).



> This one got hot fast, usually I go through a shit ton of information and such, but with studying I didn't really have time to do that. I hope y'all enjoy!
> 
> For LatinTigress, thank you for reading and loving my work, you are sweet and help to make my day! I hope you enjoy! ^_~

 

Sansa was embarrassed to ask him for help. She thought of asking Brienne instead, but each time she opened her mouth to say the words they’d get lodged inside her throat and she’d be left with her mouth gaping like a fish. She couldn’t even imagine asking Pod, Edd, or Tormund for this type of help. That would be far more embarrassing than her current predicament.

She sat by the fireplace, fidgeting nervously with her sewing materials rather than committing to the act. Jon sat at his desk, overlooking plans that they would initiate during their campaign to rally the Northern Houses to their cause. Sansa moved around to look at him, scratching her sensitive back against her dress. She couldn’t hold in the hiss of pain.

Jon looked up immediately, brow furrowing as he gazed at her. “Are you alright, Sansa?” he asked, concern etching into his features.

“Yes, oh well…” Sansa trailed off as she thought of what she needed to ask of him. She had talked a bit about her time in King’s Landing to him and then some about the Vale and Ramsey, but he hadn’t seen the true damage done to her physically.

There were numerous scars littering her back, gracing the pale skin with dark marks, lines and discoloration that left it looking ugly. Her back was baring some of Ramsey’s work as well as her thighs where he tended to dig his nails into her skin to force her legs apart and sometimes liked to test how sharp his knives were. She had some ointment to help with the healing process and cool the skin from itching as it knitted and healed itself. Her thighs she could do, but her back was a whole other beast to handle.

“No, actually I need to ask you to do something for me,” Sansa started slowly, moving to rise and approach her brother. His eyes never left her figure as she came to stand before him. “I have…scarring on my back that I cannot reach to place ointment upon it…could you help me?”

“Of course!” Jon agreed quickly, standing up as well then he chewed on his lip as he realized she would have to strip for him. “But uh, wouldn’t you like someone like Lady Brienne to do it?”

“I need someone who I trust and there is no one else here I trust more than you.” Her words brought a small smile to his lips. Truth be told, she felt insecure about letting anyone see them, but Jon wasn’t just anyone for her.

He was family.

“Follow me.” Sansa walked back over to grab the small pot of ointment before following Jon into the Lord Commander’s chambers. He closed the door tightly, locking it for extra measure though he kept his back to her for a minute as though he were composing himself for this.

Sansa glanced at him over her shoulder as she set the ointment down on his nightstand, bringing her fingers up to the laces at the front of her dress. Her heart was thumping hard, ready to take off if given the chance. Slowly the laces became undone and the front of her bodice started to gape loosely. She glanced back over her shoulder to see Jon watching her closely, his expression blank.

“I should warn you, its not pretty,” Sansa stated as blandly as she could. He didn’t say anything though, only nodded his head. Maybe he was as nervous about this as she was?

She had only been at Castle Black for two days now, just beginning to reacquaint herself with her half-brother, Jon whom she wasn’t close with growing up. He was so different and yet so much the same as she had known him back at Winterfell. Still the same dark, observant grey eyes that reminded her so much of her father and Arya. His voice was deeper though, his hair even seemed darker and there was a strange aura around him. He had stated that he was brought back to life by the red woman, Melisandre. Maybe that was what the strange aura around him was from?

“No scar is,” Jon commented tightly, lips pursed together. Her eyes drew down to her gaping dress then with a release of breath she let it drop to the ground.

Her shift kept him from seeing her completely. Sansa then sat down on his bed, reaching over to grasp the little pot before finally connecting eyes with him. He still held a blank expression though he looked rather stiff, his eyes never venturing lower than her eyes.

“I’ll turn my back to you then lower my shift,” she instructed, turning until one leg was curled on the bed and her back was facing him. Jon moved quietly to her, surprising her when he suddenly took the pot from her hand. Once she was certain he was ready, she took a deep breath and pulled at the straps to her shift, pushing them down her arms.

There was no sound behind her, no gasp in horror or hiss in shock. Nothing. She hadn’t realized how much she needed that, needed to have him not acknowledge the horror of her skin; it gave her the courage to continue pulling her shift off. Slowly, she pulled her arms out of the straps, closing her hands over her breasts and revealing her scarred back to Jon. She knew how bad it looked. It took a small hand mirror in her hand and a large one behind her for her to see the extent of the damage.

Joffrey’s Knights and Ramsey’s tendencies had done terrible damage. No amount of ointment and pray would ever take the scars away, but it would ease her mind and sorrow; it could help the scarring and memory to slowly fade. There were still no words exchanged between them. Jon simply went to work, startling her slightly when she felt the cool touch of ointment on her back.

The gentleness of his touch also startled her. It was soothing though, and it made warmth flow through her chest and pool in her belly. She could feel the callouses on his fingertips, harden and earned through his swordsmanship. They were so different from Joffrey’s, so different from even Ramsey’s too. Sansa closed her eyes, envisioning what it looked like as he slathered ointment on her skin, lightly smoothing the white substance into the darken scars, cuts and bruises. She could practically see his steady grey eyes taking it all in, imagine the sympathy there and hopefully the awe of her survival.

She hoped he didn’t pity her.

A particular bruise was pressed upon and caused her to flinch as a throb of pain echoed from the area. “Sorry, Sansa,” Jon apologized. She hummed her acknowledgement, taking a deep breath as he tried to skim over the bruise as best as he could.

She marveled at his gentle touch, enjoyed it far more than was appropriate between siblings. The lower he moved down her back, the more excited she felt herself become. Sansa licked her lips then bit them as Jon’s hand wandered to the small of her back, ghosting his touch there with light swipes of ointment.

A soft moan escaped her lips.

Jon stilled, and fear erupted within her. Sansa clenched her eyes tight as she gritted her teeth together, hoping that she hadn’t ruined anything between them. Two days. Only two days she had gotten to know him again and found this strange attraction towards him. Was she so damaged that the thought of being intimate with her brother did not disgust her? Had there been too much done to her that Sansa lost all care in the world?

Jon Snow was the only man who had touched her so gently since her father had been alive.

Suddenly his hand was moving again, skimming over her skin, likely checking that the ointment soaked in. He continued though, slowly edging his fingers up her back to tenderly massage her tense shoulders. Sansa let out a held breath, easing with his touch. She held back another moan as he rubbed her shoulders.

His hands pressed into her skin, moving down to her arms to ease the tension there as well. Sansa sighed deeply, allowing her hands to drop into her lap. It felt so nice, so good and sweet. She didn’t care if it was her brother, didn’t care about her relation to him, only that Jon was bringing forth all new feelings she thought she’d never have the chance to know again.

Sansa rolled her shoulders back, leaning towards Jon until her back was touching his torso. She heard his hitched intake of air, knew he could see her breasts rising and falling, but she didn’t care. Eyes still tightly shut, she turned her head into his throat, nuzzling it as he touched her. A whimper escaped her when his hands left her arms.

She moaned loudly when his hands came back though, closing over her breasts to massage them as well. There were scars there too, she thought though they were light in comparison to the rest of her. Jon’s thumbs rubbed the skin of her breasts, scratching his calloused palms on her nipples until they rose into puckered points. The words ‘yes’ and ‘please’ left her open mouth, encouraging him in his ministrations.

His fingers closed in on her nipples, plucking them to send zings of pleasure through her nerves down towards the boiling heat in her belly. Jon breathed her name into her ear, pressing his lips into the side of her forehead. Sansa whined out his name, raising her arms behind her to curl her fingers around his head.

It took her a moment to locate the tie to his hair then she was twisting her fingers into his curly strands. Jon groaned into her ear. The sound brought goosebumps down her neck, his voice was so deep and so enthralling. His hands left her again only to come back with ointment dappled on his fingertips. Sansa opened her dazed eyes to watch as he caressed her breasts, massaging the ointment into them while playing with her nipples. It never felt this good when she was doing it.

“Anymore scars, my lady?” Jon asked in her ear, his voice husky to go with how deep it sounded. Sansa hummed her confirmation, nervousness bubbling in her boiling hot belly as she pulled away from him.

Would he do it? Would he rub the ointment into the scars on her thighs?

Sansa twisted around, allowing her body to fall back on his bed. She ignored the faint throb from her bruise, finally setting her sight on her brother. Jon’s eyes were nearly black, no grey to be seen, his face looked flushed and he watched her heatedly. She had never felt so wanted before and in such a good, wonderful way. His eyes roved over her body, taking in the dips and curves; not a hint of disgust could be seen within his darken orbs.

Slowly, she dragged the skirt of her shift up her legs, revealing her calves then her thighs to his gaze. She spread her legs apart to show him the scarring on her inner thighs. She hoped he didn’t notice the way they quivered from both her being nervous and slight anxiety of the situation. The way he was looking at her though helped the ease that anxiety.

Jon’s eyes darken at the sight of them. Sansa swallowed hard, gripping her skirt as she waited for his response. Abruptly, he dropped to the floor and onto his knees, settling between her legs. His fingers sought out the ointment then he was smearing the substance onto her inner thighs as he had done her back and her breasts. Sansa moaned at his touch, not caring for how inappropriate this whole ordeal was becoming.

His touch was a blessing, a pray she didn’t know she needed answering. The hurt and pain she had known for so long was slowly ebbing away, each gentle touch of his fingers, each massage of ointment into her scars, slowly but surely erasing it all away. Tears welled up in her eyes, it was freeing.

She felt free.

“Did he scar you anywhere else?” he rumbled down below.

“Yes,” she mumbled mindlessly.

“Where?” he questioned darkly, pressing a kiss to her kneecap.

Sansa released the fabric of her skirt, trailing her hand down to press against the front of her smallclothes, feeling how moist the clothe had become. She was sure he could see how damp it was. “Here.”

“Would you want me too?” Sansa felt perplexed by his question, pulling her hand back so she can sit up on her elbows to connect her eyes with his.

“You can’t put ointment down there, Jon.” He gave her a small half-smile, pursing his lips together like he had a secret that she didn’t know about.

“No, you’re right, but I know another way…” he drifted off, face flushing more from his thoughts, she perceived. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes.” She didn’t even have to think about it, it practically went without saying.

Though his eyes were still dark and heated, they had softened some at her answer. His hands moved up her thighs to the ties of her smallclothes, slowly working them undone, giving her ample amount of time to stop him if she wanted.

She didn’t.

The slide of her smallclothes down her legs made her shiver, it was so different. Normally they were ripped from her body, not taken off sweetly. It lessened the anxiety in her chest. Jon connected eyes with her again before finally looking at her cunt, revealed for him to see. His eyes widen at the sight and she knew why.

Ramsey didn’t like the hair on her cunt…so he cut it off with a knife and he wasn’t always nice about it either.

Sansa anticipated a rough touch, but the gentle press of his fingers on the lips of her sex surprised her. She had tensed up, expecting the opposite of what Jon gave her. He pulled apart her folds to reveal everything to his gaze.

“What are you going to do?” Sansa couldn’t help but ask, she needed him to reassure her.

“I’m going to heal you,” Jon answered then his head disappeared between her thighs.

The caress of something wet and warm startled her yet sent tingles through her nerves. Another came and another, it took her a moment to realize he was touching her sex with his tongue. The thought made her blush fiercely though she found she was liking it a lot. Jon ran his tongue between her folds, swiping through the wetness there up to the bundle of nerves at the top of her entrance.

Sansa mewled at the peculiar brush of his tongue against her clit, bringing forth more pleasure than she had ever felt before. His lips closed around her clit, sucking the bump and making her cry out. Her thighs trembled around his head, slightly clamping him in place as he kissed her cunt. He continued on, sucking, kissing and licking her clit into submission. She felt like she was being brought towards a cliff, edging closer to the drop-off but she wasn’t afraid.

It was like he was eating her. She could hear him swallowing, licking up the wetness her body produced and groaning into her wet folds as though she were as good as any dessert. Then again, the food here wasn’t the best, so Sansa figured she was as good as any dessert in comparison. Her breathing became harsher the longer he sucked and licked at her skin. Sansa felt she was on fire, burning from the inside out.

She looked down her body again, feeling faint at the sight of his curly head between her legs with the sensation of his tongue caressing her clit. It was visually pleasing to see, even more so to imagine as he sucked at her folds then his tongue was poking into her entrance. Sansa moaned repeatedly as he pushed his tongue in and out of her cunt. It was so much, almost too much, but she wanted it so badly. She needed it so badly.

Suddenly the cliff edge was upon her and she was falling over into a white abyss of pure pleasure. Sansa relished the sensations singing through her nerves and veins. Jon kept kissing her folds, tapering off her pleasure until she was nothing but a puddle of mush. He lifted his head up, smile on his lips as he took her in.

“You’re so beautiful,” he mumbled then his eyes were widening at his spoken words. Sansa bit her bottom lip, reaching out to brush back the curls on his forehead.

“Thank you, thank you, Jon.” Tears came back to her eyes, she hadn’t known she needed this, truly. His attentions were everything that she needed and so much more than she deserved.

It wasn’t right, proper or appropriate of them. And yet they had done the unthinkable and it was exactly what she needed. Jon turned to press a kiss into her palm then his gaze came back to her and she realized something else. She wasn’t the only one who needed this.

“Jon,” Sansa started, pushing back his hair again. “Do you have any scars that need healing?”

…

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> See, hot!! I really liked this one, it flowed really well and I made Jon a little more forward than I'm sure he would be. I know it kind of ends abruptly, but I didn't really want to go on too long and I was kind of slowly dying from sleep deprivation. Hope y'all enjoyed!!
> 
> I will be posting for Day 5: Dreams/Nightmares next! ^_~


End file.
